Demons
by Njoror
Summary: First of a possible series of drabbles. Blake gives Yang a late birthday present. Bumblebee emotions. Based off the song of the same name.


"Yang, you know how I forgot your birthday last year?" Blake asked, hands behind her back, a slight tremor in her voice.

"I told you not to worry about tha-" Yang was cut off by Blake speaking up again.

"I made you this, to make it up to you." From behind her back, Blake produced a journal. A diary, really. "I hope you like it."

As Yang opened it up, Blake could picture every single word she would be reading:

_You know I'm not good with words; spoken ones, that is. I just can't verbally express how you make me feel, what you do for me. So I wrote it out instead. I hope you like it, Yang._

_We both know when it started. It was when I ran away, so long ago. I ran away from you. From the team. From Beacon. But we both know that you were the most important, even if I didn't know it yet._

_I was on that airship, I saw you jump, flames illuminating the sky like a lighthouse. A shining beacon of compassion amongst the cold and unforgiving landscape. You were shouting something at Professor Goodwitch, most likely telling her to let you go. I think you'd have taken down the entire airship to get to me._

_When we met again, there you were, fresh out of battle. And we were supposed to just be friends again. I never understood it, never understood forgiveness. It was a foreign concept in my world, my world of pain and lies. But there you were, leading by example. I asked you how I could just go back to being your partner. I remember-you just hugged me, and said I never stopped. That I meant the world to you. But what did that mean?_

_I couldn't meet your eyes. I was afraid that you'd see my demons, the ones I had no power over, because I knew my eyes were reflections of my soul. A damaged and scarred soul. And your eyes were so bright, who was I to take that light?_

_My answers came during one my wanderings, nearly four months later. The Deathstalker surprised me, and in the ensuing chase I lost my footing, breaking my ankle. I saw the pincers come towards me, and I accepted my death. But then you were there, out of nowhere. All I saw was a flash. You wore your uniform, but it was damp, as was your hair. You looked like you just got out of the shower; you didn't even have Ember Celica. _

_That didn't stop you for a second. Barehanded, you grabbed each of the pincers, stopping them from reaching me. The stinger came down, but then your aura pulsed. Like the warmth of a fire, or a hug, it enveloped us. The stinger could not get through that impenetrable shield, the shield of your caring. _

_I told you to run, to leave me behind. My leg was broken, I was in no shape to make it out myself, and there was no way you could kill it and protect me at the same time. In my world, that made perfect sense. I was a liability, who would go out of their way for that?_

_You did. You were shouting something at me, that you would never abandon me, that we would live or die as partners. I understood what meaning the world meant, then. It meant you would do anything for that person, that you would do anything for me._

_There you stood, holding back over two tonnes of exoskeleton and poison by sheer force of will, for almost twenty minutes. I could not bring myself to do anything, not even talk to you. How could I repay the paragon of righteousness in front of me? _

_When help arrived, I was almost sad. It meant your fire would recede, that I would lose that warmth. I realized I loved that warmth. But it didn't leave me. Once your job as physical guardian was done, you picked me up and rushed me to the infirmary. I think I blacked out at that point._

_When I came to, there you were. Next to my bed in the infirmary, nearly seven hours later. There were dried tears on your face, and my hand was in both of yours. You never left my side. Seeing those tears… They awoke something in me. Something I thought I'd long since buried: my sense of protectiveness. I vowed, right then that I would never let you cry again. At least not over me._

_Our reckoning came only one week later. I went out alone again, but this time just to stargaze on Beacon's roofs. You found me though. This time, you forced me to meet your eyes. My eyes, so full of demons, could not look away. I could see the demons in your soul too, but there was something else as well. That all-encompassing warmth I had felt, a fire that nurtured rather than burned. _

_You extended that offer to me. To learn how to control my fears without losing my mind. From there, you set forth on your crusade, to cleanse my soul. It warmed me to the core._

_I don't know when our mutual attraction became evident. Was it curling up in your lap for naps? Was it me brushing your hair as we laughed at bad jokes? Was it reaching for the same cup by accident, but rather than pulling back, letting our hands brush together?_

_I doesn't matter. All that mattered was that night, once again on the rooftops of Beacon, looking out at the starry expanse of the sky. I looked over, and there you were. My hero. So I reached out and gave you your reward, fitting for any knight in shining armor. I kissed you._

_From that moment, I haven't regretted a single decision I made with you. _

_Yang… I love you._

Yang looked up from the diary, from the words she understood, but never expected Blake to tell her. Tears streamed down her face.

"B-Blake…" she choked out. Unable to form more words, she held out her arms.

Blake rushed into those arms, the arms of her paramour, her savior. She felt the warmth envelop her, and heard Yang whisper in her ear, "I love you too."

She would never find the voice to say those words out loud, but Yang knew it, she was sure.

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><p><strong>AN**

**This is what happens when I make a playlist of sappy music. I meant to do something like this for Christmas, but as it was done, I felt like just publishing it. The lack of responses on my stories is rather disheartening, but I understand; they're one-shots.**


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